


Why Can't the English?

by primasveraas



Series: Who Takes Good Care of Me [1]
Category: My Fair Lady (1964), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 1910s, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1910s, Finn Organa, Gen, M/M, My Fair Lady (1964) References, Pre-Relationship, finn is higgins, mfl au, poe is gay always no matter what, poe is pickering, rey is eliza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24329194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primasveraas/pseuds/primasveraas
Summary: On taking risks and making good friends: Finn and Poe have heard much about each other; they’re not about to let their mutual intelligence go to waste. They want every second they can find with each other.
Relationships: Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Poe Dameron & Finn & Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn
Series: Who Takes Good Care of Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754101
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Why Can't the English?

It’s still raining when Poe truly sees Finn for the first time.

The other man moves among the crowd, mingled vendors and opera attendees. The notebook in his hand looks well-worn and Poe’s fascination grows.

Then, the flower girl is talking- Poe has to admit, her dialect is delightfully complex. At the very least, he understands the man’s interest in her.

When brown eyes meet his, Poe can’t help but smile.

“Go on then… where’s he from?”

“Harrow, Cambridge, Guatemala, and… India?”

Poe finds himself impressed. There’s a guarded sort of intelligence about the man, a quiet confidence in his own knowledge. His seamless movements among the people indicate no prejudice; it’s a pleasure just to watch him work. And even with his perfected English, he had seen through Poe’s accent with ease.

“You’re quite talented, young man.” Something in his tone slips; it’s the way he speaks around friends, with less notes of propriety and more of the roundedness of his native tongue. The other man stares, a hint of a smile decorating his lips as a single eyebrow arches high on his brow.

“Say, do you know Colonel Dameron, author of _ Spoken Sanscrit?” _

The words are a challenge as much as the rest of his performance is. A chuckle bursts out of Poe before he can help himself.

“I am Colonel Dameron,” Poe says, still deeply amused. “And you are?”

A chin lifts proudly. “Professor Finn Organa.”

“Organa! I came to England to meet you!”

“I was going to India to meet you!”

Finn looks surprised at his joy, but he still rushes forwards to shake Poe’s hand, yet Poe can’t resist- the man is too handsome, and he pulls the professor into a hug.

They’re going to be quick friends, Poe knows. Despite the chill of the night, and the fact that his suit is soaked through by now, a warmth has begun to burn in his chest. Finn is still close, so Poe takes advantage of the opportunity to survey his appearance once more. He appears fashionable, yet snug in his tan overcoat, more modern and put together than Poe could ever hope to be. It’s incredibly endearing, and Poe suddenly realizes that he’s yet to find a potential flaw in Organa, which has habitually been an indicator of any affection to come.

His military friends would laugh at him; still a hopeless romantic. He turned to studies to broaden his mind, yet wound up chasing a man across the continent anyways, and he’s already entirely too fond of him.

It’s difficult to remember that the rest of the world still turns around them. Poe grimaces as another taxi whizzes by, but the street girl is still lamenting loudly about her misfortunes.

“I could turn you into a duchess,” Finn says, “in six months. You could go from a simple girl selling flowers to royalty, if it weren’t for the language you speak.”

The young woman’s face crumples, and Finn softens, perhaps realizing that he’d been crass. “Of course, this restriction is to no fault of your own.”

Looking around, Finn straightens, removing his hand from the girl’s shoulder. “Where are you staying?” he asks, and Poe tries not to lose himself in all the promise Finn holds.

“The Carlton,” he says, tilting his head. That Finn knows this is crucial now that he’s seen the man and witnessed his character. Poe certainly wouldn’t mind if Finn were to utilize this information to its fullest extent.

“No, you’ll stay at 27A Wimpole Street,” Finn has moved on from the rest of the world; he takes Poe’s arm and his smile melts Poe. “If that’s all right with you, Colonel.”

He’s floating on air. “Sounds lovely,” he manages.

Oh, he’s in trouble. Poe’s is destined for it now more than ever.

“Hey!” A sharp voice interrupts his dreamy state. “I’m short for my lodging. Buy a flower?”

Distinctly, Poe’s hand moves towards his pocket, but Finn is apparently more aware than he is.

“Liar,” he says, stern but not overly harsh. “You said you could change half a crown.”

The girl stares at him, brown eyes sparkling and stringy hair covering her face. “Well!” She huffs, outsmarted. “Then take the whole blooming basket for sixpence!”

And she throws the basket at Finn’s feet. Poe watches them both, careful. There’s no real resentment between the two, but as the moment lingers, it’s clear that a battle of the wills is occurring. Their shared gaze is fierce, neither quite willing to relent.

Finally, Finn pulls a few coins out of his overcoat, tossing them among the purple blossoms. Poe sees, in stunned silence, the other man empty his pockets, then his wallet.

“Very well,” he says, and that’s that. His gentle smile returns as he bends down, picking out a single violet. There’s another pause as he smells it, then he offers Poe his arm again.

“Shall we?” Finn asks, and extends the flower to Poe, who takes it. There’s an unstoppable joy in his heart, and it grows, and it grows, and it grows.

**Author's Note:**

> Two aspects of MFL that are 100% worth exploring is the homoerotic subtext between Pickering and Higgins, and the inherent racism/classism of everything Higgins says. I love this musical and I love the characters, but it’s very nice to rectify these points.  
> Also, my original plan was to simply avoid giving Finn a last name, but I’ve been thinking about it and there’s no better substitute for Mrs. Higgins than Leia Organa herself. We would like to see it; Finn Organa it is.


End file.
